Nevada Carol
by Yrroli
Summary: Two women with troubled pasts journey through the Mojave and wrestle with the demons that threaten to consume them. Weekly updates. Rating subject to change.
1. Chapter 1

-Chapter 1-

A figure slouched underneath the small tent perched high above the road. She exhaled while pursing her lips in an exaggerated manner that spoke of her frustration. It was hot today. It was hot every day, but it was especially hot today. The figure fanned herself and sighed before tugging at the glove on her left hand. If it wasn't so useful she would gotten rid of the device on her arm a long time ago. The damn thing was heavy, and on days like today it was absurdly hot. She fanned herself again. This was getting ridiculous.

"How long could it possibly take for the sun to set?" she remarked. It felt like they had been there for days when, in fact, it had been merely hours. She tugged repetitively at her tank-top. It may not have been the most tactically appropriate garment, but damn-it if her time under the scorching Mojave sun hadn't taught her that sometimes it was better to feel a breeze than body-armor.

"Just how long are we gonna wait here watching those assholes do nothing?"

The figure turned back to the inquiring woman, responding with an exasperated, sarcastic look that answered the question, just as it had the dozen similar queries before it.

"Right, right. 'As long as it takes,'" parroted the inquiring woman. She waited a moment before asking, "Remind me again why we're not picking these fuckers off right now? I mean shit, you've got that brand new rifle to play with." She gestured back towards the shanty where a brown rifle was leaning against the footlocker the blonde had jimmied open.

The figure shook her head jostling a few strands of blonde hair in her eyes. "Listen, if we use this thing right now, that whole camp is gonna come scurrying up here. They'll tell their fort that they're all being killed, gunned down by the First Recon probably. The Legion back at their fort will probably send out more raiders as reprisal."

Cass thought a moment and added, "But won't they do that anyway?"

"Probably," the blonde said wryly, turning back to watch the camp. "but this way, we get to be a bit more," she paused, "theatrical with how they find out that their precious forward base is wiped out," she said then added, "and what else they find here."

Cass sighed. "Fine, we'll wait... As long as it takes," she said.

The Courier smirked and nodded in agreement to both the woman's answer and her impatience. The figure unfurled her legs and arched her back in an attempt to stretch inside small tent that was little more than a small piece of fabric stretched diagonally downwards from a set of supports. She set down the binoculars she had been using and extracted herself from the half-tent and stretched languidly. She walked back to the shanty and picked up her newly acquired rifle. She walked back to the tent and laid down in it head-first on her stomach. She leveled the rifle, aiming down at the camp, squinted her left eye shut, and peered through the rifle scope at the camp below.

She grimaced in frustration as she adjusted the rifle scope to bring the patrolling figures into focus. It didn't offer a closer view than her binoculars, but she felt like playing with her new toy. She rested her head on her left hand and opened her left eye and watched the campgrounds below. She saw only the small figures of patrolling guards around the uniform buildings that comprised the ancient compound. She shut her her left eye again and gave the camp another cursory examination through the rifle's scope. The figures below remained on their patrol routes without the slightest of deviations. She hadn't seen them so much take a break to eat, drink, or even relieve themselves. She had heard of discipline but frankly this was absurd, even for Caesar's Legion.

Her redheaded companion lay down next to her. Saying nothing she picked up the abandoned binoculars and joined the blonde in examining the camp. She smiled wordlessly at her friend and turned back, peering once again at the distant camp through the rifle scope.

"You know, I gotta be honest, the whole 'let's wait till they fall asleep and then we'll pick 'em off one at a time' plan sounded good yesterday evening, but these jerks don't sleep but one at a time, so ... what are we gonna do?"

The Courier looked at her companion. It was a valid question. She would have to come up with a new plan. She didn't like waiting around any more than her companion, but she couldn't just let them get away with what they had done at Camp McCarran. Those monsters had to be shown that they didn't own everything they saw. They had to be taught that there were those who would push back. She had found this spot thanks to a message there that pointed the way, and had headed, more or less, straight here after she had delivered it to the CO at Camp Forlorn Hope.

They had been trying to earn enough caps to buy their way into the Strip. Seeing as every street in Freeside found them beset by extortionists, beggars, or addicts, the two figgured they could scrounge up some better caps running jobs for the NCR out of McCarran. So naturally they ended up running various errands around the outskirts and eventually wound up in the major NCR base. She sighed heavily at the memory, trying to push it from her mind.

She heard a crack of thunder and looked up to see a thunderstorm raging in the distance. She prayed it wouldn't make it's way to her. Although the rain brought with it temporary relief from the heat, it could also bring with it some unwanted rads. She extracted herself once again from the tiny perch on the cliff and walked back to the corrugated shack. She rummaged through her pack and fished out two doses of Rad-X before returning to the small tent. Handing one to Cass she gestured to the storm on the horizon. Swallowing the capsule with a mouthful of purified water from her canteen she once again laid down in the tent. Soon enough her thoughts turned back to the base from which they had come.

She thought to the note on the desk of the traitor at Camp McCarran. They had left the base and headed towards Forlorn Hope. What a cheerful place that had been. Not that she was expecting the place to be a bastion of optimism, she just wanted to get away from McCarran. She had really screwed up there and she sighed at the memory. She pursed her lips and puffed a few wisps of hair out of her eyes and sighed. 'What a screw-up that had been.' She sighed inwardly as she thought of how she had almost died, twice.


	2. Chapter 2

**-Chapter 2-**

The Courier followed the traitor into the control tower in the middle of the night . She listened to him passing secrets to the Legion. This was the guy. This was the guy that had eluded so many MPs. This was the guy selling out NCR patrols to Caesar. She couldn't wait to bring him to justice, to see the look on his face when she brought him in; provided he didn't just kill himself first, captured Legion had a nasty habit of doing that. Maybe he wouldn't just get locked up. These NCR types sure did love their rules, but this guy had sold dozens of soldiers up the river and maybe they wouldn't suffer the traitor to live. Maybe they would just shoot him there on the spot. The more she thought about it the more she couldn't wait to put one in the jackass's head herself. She was brought out of her quickly derailing train of thought by the sound of his boots moving upstairs as he started pacing around.

'Wait, what was that he just said? Something about a bomb? On the... On the train! Shit!' She had to get out of there and fast. She quickly stood and turned to go knocking her head on the railing of the staircase. She cursed softly and hoped that she hadn't been heard. She placed her hand on the doorknob but was startled to hear the man clear his throat behind her, and much closer than she would have liked. He apparently had finished his business with the Legion much sooner than she had guessed and had headed quickly down the stairs. She turned around, still rubbing the tender spot on the top of her head. She faced him, and felt herself tense up. She watched his every movement like a hawk, trying to calm her breathing and relax her muscles. This wouldn't end well and she had to be ready for a fight.

"What are you doing here?" he anxiously asked.

She came up with, what seemed like a believable excuse, "There isn't a bathroom in here!" She grimaced and watched his hand move to his side. 'This is it,' she thought to herself. 'Get ready.' She reached to her right side and unfastened her pistol with her right hand. She hated these close fights preferring to have at least dozens, if not a couple hundred yards between her and anyone she planned on shooting.

"I can't let you leave," he said coldly, his hands pulling his gun from its holster.

She saw him shift his weight to his left foot as he raised his sidearm. She savagely swung her left hand around, struck his wrist with her open palm, and the pistol was knocked to the ground before he could get off a shot. As she drew her own weapon he pulled a large knife from his belt and lunged at her. She saw it coming, panicked and fired her gun wildly, missing by miles and was knocked to the ground. Her gun was sent tumbling beyond her vision as her world quickly shrank to the man and his knife. In his rage he went straight for her throat. It was all she could do to hold the knife from her neck as he pressed down on it with his entire weight. In a desperate move she brought her knee up between the man's legs, hard. The man doubled over in pain, dropping the knife to the side and rolling off her. She quickly picked it up and shoved it violently into his neck.

The Courier cringed at the sight of the knife in the man's throat, the fear in his eyes was almost palpable. She quickly withdrew it, brandished it protectively in front of her and watched, aghast as he died. It wasn't the first time she had killed someone with a knife, she had slit her share of throats, but there was something in his face as he bled, a familiar expression she had seen countless times in the dreams that woke her in a cold sweat screaming for forgiveness. The noises he made as he struggled for breath had been almost unbearable. The gurgling as his perforated windpipe fought for air against the tide of blood and the look in his eyes as his oxygen starved brain quickly died chilled her to the bone. Her mind was wracked and drawn back into a repressed, dark memory. A distant regret, a forgotten shame dragged her down into the deepest recesses of despair. It had so shaken her that it was a half an hour before she felt a hand lifting her up from where she sat.

Her companion had given up waiting outside and had come in after her. She felt the knife removed from her hand and Cass hoist her up with a smile. Wordlessly they walked out of the tower, and back into the main building of the base. They stopped just inside the building and her companion guided her into a chair beside the door. Cass's smile dropped.

"Shit, you'd think you just killed your favorite puppy."

She looked up, pained and distraught, but said nothing. She faded out, drifting back into a dark memory before fingers snapped in front of her face focused her eyes and being pulled into a cradling embrace brought her back to the present. She pushed away and looked up at Cass and forced a smile, shoving the darkness down deep. "Sorry, my mind must have wandered."

The redhead stared at her and asked plainly, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she lied, standing up from the chair. She took a few steps down the hall and turned back to the disbelieving woman behind her. "I'm back on track ... shit." The blonde paled, turned and ran. Cass stood and tore after her friend.

The two women raced through the terminal at a full sprint towards the monorail that once connected the former airport to the downtown of Las Vegas. The woman in front took the dead escalator two steps at a time, landed at the top and made off again at full speed, her friend just behind. She rounded the corner, not surprised by the lack of the two soldiers who typically guarded the door.

"Would you wait just a damn minute," Cass yelled.

"No time!" she shouted back over her shoulder as she threw open the door. She leapt through it just in time to see the train struggle to life as it departed the station. She skidded to a halt in disbelief.

"No! You've got to stop the train! There's a goddamn bomb on the fucking train!" she yelled to no one in particular. She started slowly down the platform but was soon running. She quickly reached the guardrail at the end and started trying to climb over it. Having seen her start after the train, Cass had torn after her, caught up and grabbed her by the collar just as she was scrambling over the guardrails. She pulled her to the ground and rolled on top of her. The train shuddered, and the whole complex was rocked by an explosion. The front half rocketed off the track, as the rear came to a grinding halt just outside of the station.

The next thing the blonde knew she was laying on a cot in a dim room. The only light came from a candle on a table by the cot. She slowly sat up, her head still spinning slightly. As she looked around, she realized she was actually in a tent, outside the main building of the base. She saw out the doorway the fingers of dawn creeping into the sky and wondered how long she had been unconscious.

As her eyes scanned the room she noticed her redheaded companion asleep in a chair next to her. She noticed the book open on her lap smiled slightly. Her friend had stayed beside her. She considered waking her, and asking what had happened after... She felt a chill run through her as she thought of the explosion. She found it difficult to push a thought from her mind; she had failed again, disastrously. She felt a lump rise in her throat and she closed her eyes against the tears she felt there.


	3. Chapter 3

******-Chapter 3-**

The blonde felt a hand on her arm. She followed it up to her companion's worried stare. Cass looked at her and then to the blonde's hands. She followed her gaze, to find her own hands clenched into white-knuckled fists. She unfurled her fingers and looked back at Cass, grinning sheepishly.

"I'm fine,"she said and finally forced the memories back. It was clear from Cass's furrowed brow that she wasn't buying it.

"No, really. I'm fine," she said lowly, then turned quickly back to stare at the camp below. Nothing. The same figures were still there and were still patrolling the same routes at the same pace. She could still feel Cass's gaze. She glanced over without turning her head. Her companion watched her for a moment longer, sighed and shook her head, then peered once again through the binoculars.

She turned, looked at Cass and smiled. 'She's a good friend She was only worried about me.' she thought. She suddenly felt the pangs of hunger assert themselves. She looked down. When had she last eaten? She couldn't say. Must have been yesterday morning when they reached the 188 trading post.

"You know, I suddenly realized something," the blonde started.

Cass turned and asked, "Yeah? What'd that be?"

"I'm starving. If I don't eat something soon my stomach's gonna give us away up here." The blonde forced a laugh at the feeble joke; her stomach audibly agreeing with her sentiment. Cass chuckled softly before turning back to observe the camp, indicating that her laugh had only been polite. A moment passed before she spoke up.

"Well I'm sure you've got something to eat in your pack. If not, I've got a couple boxes of Cram or maybe some Fancy Lads left I think."

The Courier smiled at the offer and crawled out of the tent and stood up. She arched her back and tried to stretch out the stiffness she felt in her arms. She thought she might have something left, but couldn't remember exactly where in the bag it would be. She walked back to where their packs were and rummaged through her bag, searching for the familiar feel of the paper boxes the prewar food came in. Finding nothing she gave up and turned her efforts to Cass's rucksack. Her finger touched what could only be the raised lettering on the front of a box of Cram. She pushed her hand deeper in the pack to get a hold of it but felt something smooth. She removed her hand. She reached in again and pulled out the box of Cram, along with a glass bottle of whiskey, the label not crudely scrawled in irregular handwriting, but rather printed and labeled by machine. This bottle was old, and what was stranger was that it was full and unopened. She had never seen her companion with a full bottle for longer than two seconds. She always tasted them before she put them in her pack. The removal of the bottle revealed a second box of the supposed "meat" product and the blonde extracted it before replacing the strange bottle of whiskey at the top of the pack, hoping to jar a conversation in the future about it.

She twisted her mouth to one side as she looked at the conspicuously visible and full bottle before she closed the sack and stood up. She turned and looked at her companion, still surveying the camp below. She walked back to her own pack and withdrew two forks. She stood and walked back to the tent. Tearing back the top of the box, she asked "Are they doing anything?"

"Nah, those shitheads are just pissing me off by just walking around," she returned without lowering the binoculars. "I mean for shit's sake, they're doing the same damn thing over and over."

The Courier skewered the a fork into the meat inside the first box and kicked the redhead's outstretched leg. When she indignantly turned around the blonde held aloft the opened box before quickly sitting down and placing it in front of her companion. Cass slithered out of the tent, sat up and took a bite. The blonde laughed lightly at the slight grimace that crept onto her companion's face in reaction to the taste.

"Wss sul hllny?" Cass inquired, her mouth still full.

The Courier started opening her own meal and said with a grin, "Nothing, nothing at all." She finished peeling back the cardboard on top of the box and took a bite. A similar grimace found its way onto the blonde's face eliciting a similar laugh from her friend who received a fake glare in return. The Courier's mock anger quickly morphed into laughter. Cass responded in kind and the two reluctantly swallowed their meals amidst increasingly dramatic displays of revulsion. By the time they finished their food, the two women were fighting back raucous laughter that would surely reveal them to the Legion below.

As the sun sank in the west, Cass stood and walked back to the equipment left by their packs. She picked up a darkened sub machine gun, a few spare magazines, some stims, and a nearly empty pill bottle labeled "Cateye". She walked back to the tent and crouched next to the blonde and tapped her arm.

"I have a great idea." she started. When the Courier looked at her inquiringly she continued, "Once we're done here, let's have a drink on feather-head's desk." She motioned towards the camp. The blonde looked at the camp below and laughed. The Legion never let anyone drink, so far as she knew. She had heard stories of Legion recruits viciously beaten after being found drunk.

"Oh man, that would be great," the blonde chuckled and stood up next to the tent. Cass spoke softly, "well, I had better go get into position." The blonde looked up at her and nodded.

"Be careful."

She turned and started back up the hill to circle around into a hiding point nearer the camp. When the blonde heard her walking away she turned and watched her leaving. She grimaced, thought a moment and stood up from the tent and walked after her companion.

"Wait," she called. Cass stopped and turned back. The Courier jogged briefly over to their packs and rummaged through her own for a moment. She withdrew a small, dark object, a little larger than a fist. She walked over to Cass and held it out to her.

"Listen, if this goes belly up, and someone spots you too early or... you get into a bind you can't get out of, put this on." Cass took it and looked at what she had just been presented. "It goes over your wrist like this, see?" The blonde took it from her and with one hand lifted her friend's left hand up and with the other slid it onto her wrist. She smiled up at the slightly taller woman and pointed to a button on the side of the device. "Just hit this and you'll disappear. Now, it doesn't last forever, so only use it if things get ugly." She watched Cass examine the contraption on her arm and said softly, "You be careful alright?" Cass nodded wordlessly. The blonde nervously added "...cause I like that gun, you have to bring it back." Cass smirked.

"Don't worry, you can have it back when we're sharing drinks in Feather-head's office."

"Alright, but you're buying. Now get going, you're burning daylight."

She watched her companion disappear over the hill. She turned back and headed to the tent. She lay down inside and picked up the rifle there. She watched to left of the camp, waiting to see a sign that Cass was in place. After a few tense minutes, she spotted the redhead slowly clamoring down the slope just behind a boulder. They had made sure that none of the legion patrols would find her back there before sundown. If they did think to check back there...well, the blonde was glad she had given her that Stealthboy. She was certain Cass could handle herself, but she still hoped she would be alright. She damn well better be, they had a date in an office. She thought back to the bottle she had inadvertently found in Cass's pack. She could still vividly remember the last time she had seen her companion drinking. It had been on the day they set out together.


	4. Chapter 4

******-Chapter 4-**

A blonde woman pushed open the door and looked around as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. A few NCR soldiers walked around the bar, seemingly aimless in their purpose. She eyed a redheaded woman sitting in the same spot that she always was, every time she returned to this remote outpost. The blonde Courier smiled and slid onto a stool next to her.

"Shit," started the redhead, and dropped her head to her drink and swallowed what remained in her glass before turning to the blonde and continuing, "You come around like a bad habit."

The blonde nodded and jumped straight to the point, "The Crimson Caravan sent me, they want to buy out your caravan."

Cass sighed. "They want to buy Cassidy Caravans? Don't they know it's burned to ash?" She looked down at her empty glass and said "No," she paused briefly, "Even times being what they are, not sure I'm looking to sell, not even for all the whiskey in Reno."

The Courier was surprised. This was the first she had heard of an attack on Cassidy Caravans. She looked at Cass with genuine concern. "Wait, what happened to your caravan?"

Cass looked for the bartender, who, after making eye contact with the redheaded regular promptly turned to busy herself with sorting out various items under the bar. She swore under her breath then turned her attention to the blonde.

"The Mojave happened...hit by raiders packing some heavy firepower. Can't believe the Crimson Caravan haven't heard." She dropped into a sarcastic tone. "So if you want to buy all of Cassidy Caravans you're looking at it." she snickered, lifting the empty glass to her mouth hopefully before turning and adding "and what I've got in my pockets." She turned to watch the bartender continuing to busy herself. "Still, as little as that is, not looking to sell."

The Courier threw her hands up in exasperation with a loud, over dramatic sigh that drew the attention of several troopers and the bartender. She started in a overly exaggerated frustrated tone. "So, even if you have nothing, you won't sell?" The blonde looked away, pouting. She had had to walk for miles just to get this far and now this she wasn't gonna sell?

Cass said flatly, "If someone came up to you and offered you a thousand caps for your name, would you take it?" After a brief staring contest, Cass looked away and threw her hands up in a sarcastic mockery of the blonde's earlier gesture, saying frustrated, "Actually, you now what? Fuck it, I don't want to hear your answer anyway."

The two women stared in opposite directions and pouted. Cass, after a moment, shook her head and looked over at the blonde and sighed, "Point is, I made the caravan what it is. It's mine."

The blonde looked down and withdrew a slip of paper and placed it on the bar in front of her. "I have the offer letter here. The terms are fair." she looked at Cass and smiled hopefully. Cass picked the paper up and looked it over.

"Alice McLafferty eh?" She looked over the paper and her eyes nearly fell from her head at the generous offer. She shook her head and collected herself before placing the paper on the bar.

"No, I see the zeroes...and I know she's good for them." Cass turned her head to her still empty glass before beginning again, softly. "Still, it's not about the money. Dad'd spin like a twister if he ever heard I sold our name for anything."

The blonde watched her stare at an empty glass, lost in a memory. "Are you sure?"

Cass looked up at the woman then shook her head. "Look, I know you came all this way, and that takes some drive, especially these days." She shifted on her stool to turn to face the Courier. "It just doesn't feel right," she pleaded, "trading history for a piece of paper."

The blonde let out an exasperated growl and rubbed her temple in frustration. She turned back to Cass and half-shouted, "This outpost is the last place you want to be trapped!"

Cass held up an accusatory finger and shouted "That.." she faded into thought, trailing off quietly "that is a good point. It's the caravan clearance that's got me stuck here."She looked at the bartender before saying louder, "I'm sure this bar's getting tired of propping me up." she grabbed the slip of paper and pulled it towards her. She leaned up and grabbed a pen off the shelf and scribbled on the bottom of the paper while saying, "I'll put my name to it. No sense trying to hold the past between your fingers when it's nothing but dirt."

She finished signing her name and slid the paper towards the slightly shorter woman, who picked it up and shoved it into her pants' pocket with an all too happy grin.

Cass couldn't help but laugh and said, "All right, there you go. Caravan's all yours." She lowered her shoulders then shrugged. "Feel kind of relieved, actually. Guess I didn't realize how much I was carrying around with just the name." She stared at her empty glass.

The Courier watched her and thought about giving her a reassuring pat on the back but thought better of it. She thought better of a lot, choosing to eschew the subject of the redhead's past for the time being, and instead asked about the future.

"What will you do now?"

"No idea," she began dejectedly, "maybe..." she paused as though considering her options for the first time. "Head back West?" she started, more to herself than to the woman next to her. "Though the idea of heading back there with my tail between my legs isn't appealing."

The Courier shook her head sympathetically and offered with a weak smile and a shrug, "There are other places to go."

"Where? Like Vegas?" she laughed and shook her head. "Chewed up and spit enough friends out." She started to take a drink from her empty glass, remembered it was still empty and slammed it on the bar, punctuating her thought. "East? Get out in one of Caesar's little 'camps?'" She made exaggerated air-quotes with both hands and knocked the empty glass to the ground, taking no notice of the loud crash as it shattered. "No thanks. " She was getting agitated and her gestures became more wild. She threw her arm out back behind her and half shouted, "Head back West? I already know the Big Circle and everyone in it - 'cept now I go back there, ruined." She paused, taking in the ramifications of what she had said and looked down dejectedly before adding absently. "Never really realized how small the Mojave's getting nowadays, hard to find a place to go to that's worthwhile."

At this the blonde smiled, her mouth curling into a wicked grin. Cass eyed her defensively. The blonde, unable to wipe the grin from her face said, "You could come with me!"

Cass laughed, a deep, genuine, and mocking laugh that took the wind out of the blonde's sails. She pressed on, all the more determined. "If you stay here you know exactly what's going to happen, day in, day out." the woman laughed louder.

"So fighting boredom is your argument huh?" she looked around the room, at the same troopers and bartender that she had seen for what felt like an eternity. She turned back to the blonde, waiting hopefully on the stool next to her. She had to smile at the woman's persistence.

She shook her head, saying wordlessly how little she could believe what she was about to say. "Well, walking the Mojave with you can't be any worse than here, that's for sure." she stood up from the bar and smiled. "All right, I'm in."

The blonde stood up as well and stuck her hand out. Cass took it and the blonde shook vigorously. Cass withdrew her hand and, laughing, said as they walked out of the bar into the blinding light and scorching heat, "So, you got a real name?"

"Sorry Cass," she said grinning widely, "but it's just Courier."


	5. Chapter 5

-Chapter 5-

As the sun was bidding its last farewell to the Mojave for the day, the Courier set down her newest toy, a brown, camouflaged sniper rifle, and picked up an old favorite. She smiled as she curled her hands around the synthetic body of the smaller rifle. It had proven invaluable to the Courier since she had found it. It was well worth the cost of the Rad-X and RadAway it had taken to safely explore the cave in which she had found it. She habitually ran her hand mindlessly over the notches carved into the stock.

She peered through the scope and grinned as it revealed the camp a distance beyond and below her perch. She scanned across the grounds, noting the positions of the guards and their routes. They were unchanged from the same routes she and her redheaded companion had watched for hours prior. She heard movement closer, nearly directly below her. She crawled forward to better assess the noise.

It was a recruit on patrol. 'Shit,' she admonished herself. How had she missed a patrol this close to their hiding place. Based on the routine of the other patrols, it was safe to say this wasn't a recent addition. Had they been heard? She looked with the scope towards where her companion was crouched behind a boulder, waiting for her signal.

The Courier swung the rifle back down to the offending recruit. She looked around him, searching for a sign of anyone else who could raise the alarm if she eliminated him. Seeing none she turned her attention back to the recruit who had stopped for a brief rest. Clearly he was new. In their time observing, the two women hadn't seen a Legionnaire stop even for water until his shift was up.

The recruit was unscrewing the cap to his canteen. This lapse in willpower would cost him. She sited on the back of his head, a bit above the neck, and cycled the bolt on her weapon, feeding a round into the chamber. She exhaled slowly and placed her finger on the trigger and started to slowly squeeze and felt the mechanics of the gun move lightly against the trigger. The recruit took a drink from his canteen.

The recoil didn't surprise her as her weapon spoke softly, it's voice dulled by the suppressor at the end of the barrel. The recruits lifeless body dropped in front of the boulder he sat on. She smiled as she pulled the bolt back again, ejecting the spent brass. She may not have been able to hack a computer worth a damn, but she was good at at this.

The Courier reassessed the state of the camp, checking to see if anyone had been alerted to their presence. She found the Legion still walking their patrols, none-the-wiser to the death of their comrade. She quickly worked the magazine loose and reached to her right, grabbed another round from the carefully arranged row of 5.56 ammunition next to her and replaced the spent round in the magazine.

She fed the magazine back into the main body of the weapon and closed the bolt, feeding the fresh round into the chamber and wrapped all her fingers around the grip, watching the camp carefully.

Finally satisfied that they had not been discovered, she reached into her pocket and withdrew a small, round metal box. She slid her thumb over the metal sheet within the casing. She pressed it down and released it, the clicking sound signaling her companion to put their plan into motion.

The woman, looking vaguely in the direction of the blonde's position nodded and quickly swung into action. She saw through her scope Cass pop a few pills into her mouth to augment her night vision. She crept forward, crouched, trying to make as little noise as possible. To the Courier watching, her friend moved fluidly, gracefully, and she was soon upon the first patrol. The Courier saw her stop, aim her weapon, and then only a few small flashes of light; hardly noticeable unless you were looking right at them barrel.

For her part, the Courier began scanning for patrols on the opposite end of the camp. She spotted one walking slowly away from the main buildings. She judged the distance, sighted in appropriately, waited for him to walk into the kill-zone, exhaled slowly, and squeezed the trigger.

As the rifle whispered, she felt the glove on her hand compress slightly, lowering the rifle's elevation a minuscule amount. Watching through the scope she noted that the corrected aiming landed the round squarely in the back of the Legionnaire's head. Down he went, hopefully without too much noise.

They worked like this for a few minutes, slowly eliminating over a dozen of the Legionnaires without a single one noticing. Once the camp was still, and no further movement could be seen, the Courier made one last sweep of the camp from her high perch, the sat up in the small space. She quickly reloaded the magazine in her weapon and picked up one extra. Shoving the extra magazine into her belt, she extricated herself from the small tent and proceeded down the hill toward the camp.

When she reached the bottom she set off at a jog. Nearing her companion she slowed to a brisk walk, stopping a few feet from her friend. She was waiting near the main building of the camp, a small two-story building. The blonde looked up at the second story then back to her friend. She beamed at Cass. "Miss me?" she queried.

"Hard to miss someone who never really left." Cass said, in a hushed tone, as she quietly started reloading her weapon.

"S'pose that's true," she responded quietly. They remained silent for a moment before the blonde spoke up, "You ready to see the look on Featherhead's face?"

Cass nodded, "More than anything." She slid in a newly reloaded magazine with a click and thumbed the safety to the off position with a wicked grin. The blonde smiled as her friend turned and started around up the stairs.

'This had gone unbelievably well,' she thought as she followed. Cass had been incredibly adept at evading detection by the Legionnaires. The Courier would never have guessed from the loud-mouth's brash attitude and loud demeanor, but she was, evidently very good at sneaking around. She hadn't even had to use the gadget that she had provided.

As they approached the main building, where the commander of these Legion forces seemed to live, the Courier noticed a soft light snap to life in the window of the upstairs door. The two women froze with their weapons aimed at the door, ready to fill anything on the other side with bullets should the door move even slightly. They held their breath for a tense moment, waiting for the door to open. It didn't, and as quickly as it had come, the light was gone. The women exhaled softly and proceeded up to the landing.

Cass held a single finger to her mouth and gestured to the door then to her wrist. The blonde nodded. Best case scenario, Featherhead wasn't yet asleep, or worst-case, he was waiting for them. Either way, they would have to wait for him to lose focus or fall back to sleep. They took up spots on either side of the door and crouched down, leaning against the building.

The Courier checked her weapon while Cass did the same. The moon was full tonight, she didn't even have to cycle the settings on her wrist to provide extra illumination. Satisfied she checked the time and sighed frustratedly. Only two minutes had passed, not nearly long enough. She looked over at her companion who was taking a drink from her canteen.

She did a great job. Hell, she had done all the work while the blonde had been safely out of harm's way. Cass looked over at the Courier and gave a mischievous smile, gestured to the door and slowly drew a finger across her throat. The blonde smiled back and nodded, and then was struck by an unexpected observation.

In the moonlight her companion was a very striking figure. Her sharp, aquiline features were offset by the softness of her complexion in a very subtle way. The blonde envied her rough beauty, lamenting that she herself had only the rough, and not the beauty.

They heard a heavy crash and before they could react, the door flew open hitting the blonde square in the face with a thud.


	6. Chapter 6

-Chapter 6-

The door opened with a thud against the wall. A group of three, an older man and woman along with a younger, muscular man, walked into the cantina and looked around fruitlessly, their eyes still used to the bright, late-afternoon California sun outside. After a moment, their eyes adjusted and they saw a few people eating and a few at the bar. The older man took a step forward and cleared his throat trying to draw attention.

"We're looking for a guide who knows their way around the wastes," he bellowed in a deep voice. "Someone who can show us the fastest way to and from southern Baja."

The entire room was silenced for a moment before turning back to their respective business chuckling softly amongst themselves; all except for a young woman at the end of the bar farthest from the door. "You're joking right?" she asked. The muscular younger man strode impatiently over to the offending woman.

"You find something about us particularly funny?" he asked to the back of the woman.

"Well yeah, if I'm honest," she said as she swiveled around. "I mean, look at you three, you've got Mr and Mrs One-Foot-In-The-Grave over there. Who's gonna keep them from getting eaten by wild dogs, let alone raiders? You Grognak?"

The blonde snickered at her own joke. The elder woman laughed as well, but quickly stifled it after receiving a distressed look from the younger man. Quickly the blonde tried to reassure the group, "Listen, I'm sure you're nice, but you'd be better off just hooking up with one of the brahmin trains leaving for New Reno than trying to find a guide here."

The elder woman spoke up, "Miss, we've just arrived with a caravan that's now bound for Reno and we could have stayed with them. Where we're going no caravans will visit. We are trying to get away from the brahmin trains, away from the Big Circle, away from the NCR in general."

The blonde thought for a moment, adopted an exaggerated introspective look, and said in a feigned introspective tone, "I see, so you're trying to leave the Republic, so naturally the place to look for someone willing to guide you out of it is in Shady Sands." The elderly woman was silent and the blonde laughed again. The younger man laughed as well, but was silenced by an impatient look from the older woman.

The older man cleared his throat. "Listen," he started, "We know where we're going, all we want is someone to show us the best way there, and maybe run supplies to us every now and then." he held out a map. The woman took it with one hand and with other she swallowed what remained in her glass.

She unfolded and examined it. It was a rough prewar map of the South West Commonwealth and Northeast Mexico, with a small circle near the western coast nearly a quarter of the way north from the southernmost tip of Baja.

She swiveled around and lay the map on the table, careful examining the areas between Shady Sands and the area circled. She sighed and shook her head. Rumors out of the south spoke of deep stretches of desert with few water sources. She had heard stories of a settlement down in Baja that guarded their water to the brink of insanity.

The woman turned around and picked up her drink before turning back to face the group. The older man anxiously asked "So? Will you guide us there?"

"No, I won't. It's far too dangerous." She put her empty drink down behind her, surprised by the lack of a response. If anything the group simply looked impatient. "Judging by your expressions I take it you've been warned about the raiders."

"Miss," the older woman began, "we've been warned against just about every part of this plan, from the location, to the storms, and the raiders, hell one person even said the place was cursed; so yes we've been warned, and yes we're still going, with or without a guide, but I suppose I can understand how some people might be too afraid to go." The older woman turned and started out the bar. "Let's go, we've taken up enough of this young lady's 'valuable' time." The blonde thought for a moment, then stood up and called after her.

She cleared her throat in preparation to clarify her refusal. "Listen lady, I get why you're doing this. I really do." She took a few steps towards the older woman and slapped a newspaper she had been fuming over before the woman's group walked in. The banner headline, now defaced with angry scribbles, read:

_**RANGERS UNITED! **_

_Desert Rangers to be absorbed and Mojave Desert to be annexed to NCR_

_NCR Legislators ratified the new Ranger Unification Treaty effectively absorbing the storied Desert Rangers into the ranks of the NCR Rangers today. In addition to the acquisition of the veteran Rangers, the NCR today also officially annexed the Mojave Desert area including the ruins of Las Vegas. The area is awaiting NCR troops to begin the pacification process leading to admission as full fledged state of the New California Republic. See Rangers on page **5B**._

The blonde continued, "This country's lost its way. I mean, taking places that don't want to join and giving them no other choice? The NCR shouldn't be conquering places. What would our Great Mother Tandi say if she could see us now? I mean, the Mojave's just the last straw. I've been out that way, the NCR's bitten off more than it can chew if it thinks it can keep hold of that bit of desert."

The blonde shook her head with her eyes closed, trying to get back on topic. "What I'm getting at is I'm right there with you. I really am, but Baja just isn't where you want to go."

"So where exactly should we be headed lady?" the younger man interjected. The young woman shot him a glare before turning back to the older woman.

"Listen, you meet me here in a couple of hours, long enough for me to tie up some personal business, I will not only show you a better spot for your excursion, I'll take you there myself." She held her hands out in a gesture that invited a response from the older woman.

"Fine," she said, pointing at the young woman. "You have two hours before we find someone else and head south." The blonde woman smiled as the older woman gestured for her companions to take a seat at a nearby booth. The blonde quickly swiveled around and rolled up the map. She stood and walked to where the group was now seated and put the rolled up map on the table.

"I'll be back in two hours." She looked for the bartender but he wasn't behind the bar. She looked around the sparsely populated cantina. There was a couple eating lunch together and she judged by the way they were laughing and staring at each other they were newly together. The blonde smiled and reminisced; they reminded her of the one reason she kept coming back to Shady Sands and even had been thinking about giving up her roaming: Evelyn. She had finished her most recent courier assignment early and was back early to surprise Ev'. Her mouth formed into a consternated grimace. She had just gotten back and had already promised to leave again within the day. Maybe she could convince Ev' to go with her this time. She often complained that they never got to spend time together. Maybe this was just the sort of time together she would like.

When the older woman spoke again, it shook her free from her day-dreaming. "Alright, two hours before we find someone else." The blonde woman smiled and nodded. "Two hours." She reached into her pack by the bar and fished out a bag of caps and placed it on the counter. She then hoisted her heavy pack up onto her shoulder and winked at the portrait of a man who could have been a boxer, the bartender's grandfather like she always did on her way out of the cantina. Looking back at the group she said, "Just let Dusty Three know that you're with me. He'll give you the good stuff."

She slid her sunglasses into place as she waltzed past the small potted plants just outside and weaved into the evening foot traffic from the congressional buildings to the brand new apartment block just north of the downtown district. She considered ducking into one of the smaller knick-knack stores along the way to pick up a gift for Evelyn but thought the better of it. No matter what she brought to her, "Ev'" always said the same thing, "I'm just glad you're home with me, safe and sound."

So she was mostly sure Ev' wouldn't mind her being three weeks away couriering a package to Vault City without even so much as a snow-globe to show for it. She always loved it when the NCR called on her for jobs like that. Big caps, relative ease moving through NCR turf, and the repeat requests had kept her in California long enough to meet someone nice.

Whistling, she took the staircase two to a stride and was quickly in front of Evelyn's door. She instinctively lifted up the potted plant next to Ev's door but failed to find a spare key. This was strange, it was always there, she looked around for it. Quickly her smile faded. There was the key protruding from the door like an unexpected pimple.

She turned the handle then removed the spare key and replaced it under Evelyn's plant. The door was unlocked. She looked around for anyone suspicious waiting around outside and drew her revolver. She knocked on the door with the back of her hand as she pushed it open.

"Ev'? Honey? You ok? I hope you don't mind but the door was open," she said loudly. When when she finished she could hear rustling coming from the back of apartment. The typically spotless residence was a mess. Her breath caught in her throat and she rushed towards the bedroom and found the door ajar. She kicked the door open, swept the room quickly before her eyes landed on the bed and her heart landed on the floor.


	7. Chapter 7

-Chapter 7-

The Courier was staggered for just a moment, but snapped back immediately upon hearing the sounds of a struggle. Hoisting herself back up along the wall, the blonde gave the door a shove with her hands, still holding the rifle.

As it slammed shut again, the door revealed blood, lots of it. A tall figure was bent over her companion, hands at her throat. The Courier's heart sank into her stomach and she felt chills run the length of her body when she saw that Cass had a handle protruding from her side and a large amount of blood was starting to pool under her. Her hands dropped from the man's arms, landing lifelessly out beside her.

Seeing her friend like this was unbearable for the Courier. As she watched, something inside her, something deep, cried out for atonement. With an anguished cry, the blonde went berserk. Her hands tightened on the stock and barrel of the rifle. She brought it above her head and with a step she closed the gap between her and the large figure strangling her friend.

With all her weight and with all her strength she brought the rifle down as hard as she could against his head. The blow landed against his helmet with a solid sound. The man staggered back away from his supine victim. The enraged blonde, stepping quickly back with him, failed to hear Cass gasping ravenously for air as she crawled to and slumped against the building cradling her side.

The man turned, with fury in his eyes and with his arms outstretched towards his assailant, but all he saw was the butt of the rifle as the Courier brought it down again with all her might. She felt his unguarded face compact under her blow. The man collapsed to his hands and knees, blood pouring down his face and onto the ground. The Courier stepped in, turned the rifle around gripping it by the barrel, and followed with a hard blow to the back of his helmet; the helmet slightly caving under the assault.

The centurion's arms collapsed and he fell onto his side towards the Courier, landing on her feet. Incensed, she brought up her right foot and stomped with all her force onto the man's side. Reflexively he rolled onto his elbows, then to his back away from the Courier.

Relentless, she pursued his final retreat like a rabid dog after prey. Unflinching she brought the rifle down in a hammer blow against his exposed neck, then his head. Kneeling now beside him she drove the butt of the rifle savagely down over and over. Tears spilled down her face. She started screaming, punctuating ever outcry with a blow to the man's face or neck.

"Not again! Not this time! Goddamnit it isn't fair! You can't have her too! You took them all away but you're not getting this one do you fucking hear me? Not this one! Not her! She's my only friend! Goddamn you!"

With the last sentence the stock of the rifle cracked and split from the rest of the gun. Feeling the weight change in her hands as the stock flew from her grip she dropped the broken weapon and slammed her fists down against the man's head with an anguished cry.

Pain shot through her hands on contact with the metal helmet and the Courier was stunned. She looked at her hands, raw and bruised from the ordeal. She fell back onto the ground and looked, for the first time at the bloody mess before her. Shocked, she pushed herself back until she felt the metal below her change from the roof to the staircase.

She brought her knees up to her chest and pulled them tight against her body as hard as she could. She felt herself spiraling back down. The world dimmed around her and all she could do was weep.

After a moment that dragged on for days, she was startled by a clap of thunder in the distance and she looked up and saw her friend against the wall. She felt her own breath catch when she saw Cass's raise and lower her chest.

She crawled over to her friend to make sure she wasn't just going crazy. Her friend had a large syringe with what looked like a pressure gauge attached sticking from a spot near the wound. She suddenly felt embarrassed for counting Cass out so quickly.

A pained cough from her friend refocused the Courier's attention. She pulled out the stimpack and stood. She then quickly dragged Cass inside and onto the bed in the far corner. The Courier looked her wounded friend over.

There were dark bruises around her neck and her shirt was drenched in blood. She lifted Cass's bloodied tank top, exposing the wound. There was a gaping laceration that ran in across her abdomen just above her navel. A deeper wound was to the right of her navel. While it had stopped bleeding, she couldn't be sure just how bad the damage was.

She looked around for any kind of medical equipment. She rummaged through the desk, finding only a key to the door and a fistful of NCR dog tags. She sighed, she knew there was only one place she could get the equipment she would need. She would have to go back and grab their packs from that outpost high above the campgrounds.

That meant that she would have to leave her unconscious friend in the middle of a Legion base. She could, at least, console himself with the fact that she and Cass had killed every one of the Legionnaires they could find.

She stood over her friend and withdrew another stimpack and a dose of Med-X from her own reserve. Gently she injected them into her friend's abdomen and felt each dispense its medicine. It seemed to ease the pain she was in. If not for the large wound in her belly Cass would look like she was in the middle of a pleasant dream. The Courier smiled and ran her thumb protectively over Cass's arm.

"I'll be right back, I promise," she said softly then turned to go. She laughed at the cliche line that seemed to crop up in every prewar book she picked up. She picked up the key and dog tags from the table. These would have to do until she could get her hands on a better weapon.

She manipulated the dog tags until one stuck from each gap between her fingers. In one hand she gripped the key tightly as she turned the knob with her other; her whole body anticipating a sudden attack from the other side of the door. She walked nervously out of the room and closed the door behind her.


	8. Chapter 8

-Chapter 8-

The night was still and bright. A cool breeze wafted over the freshly empty camp. The moon, low in the sky, shone in a pool of rapidly congealing blood and scattered in the impact of a hastily removed boot. The same boot dropped down from the roof to the dirt and was again quickly removed as the Courier sped through the camp and started up the road toward her nest.

_'Shit! Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit!'_

The Courier's breath came in with her left and right foot and left in the same pattern. Years and countless miles brought out the familiar and comfortable pattern as she jogged up the road. It took all her will to hold herself back from sprinting. Cass would need a steady hand, not one addled by runner's fatigue. So she jogged, as fast as she possibly could, and all she could think of was her friend.

_'I'm such a goddamn idiot! How could I have let this happen?'_

Cass was wounded but stable for now. The drugs had done their work and bought the redhead some time. Not much, but it was enough. The Courier knew she would have to check the extent of Cass's injuries. She swallowed hard, knowing that she may have to perform something more complex than a simple stimpack-stab. She knew also that she was not, by any stretch, a doctor, or even a nurse.

_'You're such an idiot, that's how it happened. Now you want to play doctor again? Do you remember what happened the last time you tried that?'_

As the incline grew steadily steeper, the Courier quickened her pace, overcompensating out of concern for her wounded friend. Her thoughts strayed back to an earlier companion; one whose face conjured images of fire and death. She shook her head, forced the images back; forced the darkness down.

_'Yes, you remember, you mangled that poor kid. He trusted you, and you butchered him.'_

She felt a drop of water on her face and looked up. The stars were gone, and in their place she saw a bolt of lightning. "Just fucking perfect," she muttered. She knew that the rain would make it much more difficult going once she left the road.

_'Well lucky her! You'll probably slip and fall to your death now. You won't even get a chance to mutilate your only friend.'_

Eventually she had to and she turned to her right and left the road, picking her way as quickly as she dared over the rocks towards a large overhang, underneath which a narrow footpath lead towards the nest the two women had occupied a few hours ago.

_'Wouldn't it just be so much better if you hadn't dragged her with you on this stupid "quest"?'_

The courier shimmied along the footpath carefully. When it finally widened she was off like a shot. Sprinting the final dozen yards to the corrugated shelter where their packs were. She slid to a halt in front of her pack. The sound of the rain on the metal roof rang like a stampede in the Courier's ears.

_'Why are you even here in the first place? Oh that's right! You failed at the airport. Sure seemed familiar didn't it?''_

She could feel herself letting go. She withdrew into herself and simply stared at the rucksack reaching which had, not thirty seconds prior, been the center of her entire universe. Her hands, previously clenched into nervous fists of anxiety loosened and fell to her sides as she slid into a state of detached numbness.

_'Didn't it strike you as just a little reminiscent of what happened before?'_

It had happened again. She had failed. She let her friend down and now Cass was going to die and there was nothing she could do about it. She dropped to her knees, still staring expressionless at her pack. She closed her eyes and all she felt was numb.

_'Sure it did, you couldn't save that stupid train just like you couldn't save all those poor people who trusted you, and here you are again. Trying valiantly to save someone. Just one person this time; not that it made much of a difference the last time you tried to save just one person.'_

"Carol" she mouthed silently.

Something moved her hand. Lifted it next to her face, and slapped her hard with an open palm. Stunned she shook herself free of her emotional shock and looked at her hand. Beyond it she saw her pack and for the first time connected its contents with saving the life of her redheaded friend. As quickly as the bolt of lightning that punctuated the action, she lunged for it.

"Shit shit shit where is it? Damnit!"

Frantically she dug through the pack, throwing unwanted items over her shoulder. Eventually she had assembled what she had come for. An assortment of drugs, Med-X, Stimpaks, two blood packs, a few scalpels, a bonesaw, some thread, gauze, and a flashlight. She upended the pack and on top of the large pile of items that came tumbling out, landed a stack of magazines and books.

"Fucking finally!"

The Courier frequently liked to read whenever she had time, so she often carried around a pile of reading material; most of it was not particularly educational: a few old adventure books clearly aimed at children before the war, a handful of old gun catalogues and periodicals, not to mention the "special interest" magazine she had found in a particularly hidden wall-safe in an old department store.

What landed on top however was much more pertinent. She saw the words illuminated by a flash of lightning: "Physician" and "D. C. Journal of Medicine." Quickly she scooped the medicine and literature up into an old doctor's bag and shoveled the rest back into the pack.

She stood up and picked up the heavy doctor's bag at her feet with her right hand, NCR dog tags still protruding rudely from the gaps between her fingers, picked up the flashlight in her left hand, and set back off the way she had gone to the camp earlier. She switched her light on and followed the path as quickly as she could. After a few steps the ground gave way and she felt her step descend with a sickening vertigo. Stumbling forward, she quickly overcorrected and landed on her backside, sliding down a few feet to a small ledge.

_'Fuckfuckfuckshitfuck'_ "Damnit!"

The Courier explored the edge of the cliff with her light. Seeing that it dropped only about ten feet she decided to risk it. She turned around and lay on her stomach with her feet towards the cliff edge. She slowly snaked her way backwards and lowered herself down as far as she could go and dropped the rest of the way. She turned around and quickly set off once again to her friend.

Immediately she was, once again, sliding down a steep incline on her back. She again landed on a similar cliff. Inwardly she chastised herself for making the same stupid mistake twice before she examined her current predicament.

_'For shit's sake, twice! Get a grip.'_

The Courier found herself on yet another small cliff, this time overlooking the small buildings that composed the compound. The drop was nearly the same distance and she again lowered herself slowly before dropping the few feet that remained. She moved quickly to the edge of the building before peeking around the corner. No Legionaries in sight. She jogged to the central building that housed her injured friend. She took the stairs two at a time and paused before the door, catching her breath.

_'Almost back almost back almost there. Cass is strong, she'll still be there.'_

She had to remember that her friend wasn't dead. She wasn't dead and the Courier was going to keep it that way. She put her hand on the knob and tried to turn it. Locked. She laughed impatiently at herself. In all her excitement she had forgotten that she had locked the door. She reached into her pocket and withdrew the key, inserted it, turned it and opened the door, throwing it open in a frustrated manner. The door collided with the outside of the building. She reached over, grabbed the knob and hurried inside, slamming the door behind her


	9. Chapter 9

-Chapter 9-

"You LOW-DOWN, piece of SHIT!" A blonde woman yelled behind her and slammed the door. She fumed down the stairs outside. This was fucking unbelievable.

"That horrible little ...GAHD!" she exclaimed as she slammed a fist down into the banister of the staircase. "Fucking unbelievable," she spat through clenched teeth. She slammed her fist on the bannister again. She stormed through the small garden lining the walkway, going out of her way to stomp on a blooming flower. She could remember a time when she nervously had plucked a few identical flowers in a vain effort to impress the tenant of the apartment she just left.

She huffed her way towards the bar she had been at less than an hour before. The traffic heading away from the downtown district gave her a wide berth as she strode through the mass of people muttering to herself about an ungrateful and evil jackass.

Throwing open the door to Dusty's Cantina the Courier walked right past an impatient trio and an incredulous barkeep, straight to the kitchen. There she found an ancient punching bag suspended near the equally ancient brewery. She threw her pack down beside her and began delivering punishing blows to its midsection.

The bartender stood in the doorway and whistled loud and low. "I take it you found out eh?"

"Damnit Three-Dee, you knew about this?"

"Course I did, so did half the city. Ev' ain't exactly been discreet you know?"

The blonde let out a primal yell and slammed both her fists down in a hammer blow against the punching bag. She rested them there as she leaned face-first against the bag. She couldn't believe it. They had been so good together. Sure they had their rough patches, and she had been gone a lot due to her job as a courier, but Ev' never seemed to mind.

Realizing the implications of what she had just thought, the Courier angrily yelled and slammed the bag again. 'Well no wonder! This had probably been going on for a while. This explained why her gifts never seemed to matter. "Just glad to have you home safe" indeed.'

Turning to the bartender she said dejectedly "Well at least I don't have live with it." Picking up her discarded pack, she headed for the door and stopped next to him. "Dusty, you've always been a good friend to me, thanks."

Nervously the large man laughed, "Sheesh, you'd think you were gonna...woah now don't go doing nothing stupid, you gots lots to live for!"

The Courier just looked at him puzzled for a moment before adopting a irritated look and socking him in the bicep. "You really think I'd kill myself over that dirtbag? Damn Three-Dee I thought you knew me better than that!"

The big man let out an exaggerated sigh. "So what? You gonna get out of our 'rustic little city'?" The large man put exaggerated air quotes around the last three words. He never was very good at sarcasm.

"Yeah." She said. "I think that's a safe bet." She gave the big man one last half-strength jab to the bicep before walking out of the back room. "I'm done with this whole fucking country."

The reappearance of the blonde woman from the back room elicited a noticeable response from the group near the door. The men stood when she approached their table.

Taking no notice of their pleasantry, the young woman sat down and looked up at the two, still standing men. After a moment rolled her eyes she said roughly: "You ladies see a rat or something? Siddown for crying out loud."

The two men hastily sat back down. The older woman with them spoke up hopefully, "Well? I trust your affairs are in order?"

Incredulous, the blonde shot an impatient glance at the old woman. "Yeah, you could say that." She looked around the table at inquiring faces before sighing heavily and adding, "Look, I just, ten minutes ago got out of a relationship, can we please not talk about my catastrophic love life?" She leaned forward, placing her hands flat on the table. "How about instead, I talk about our new home?"

The trio leaned forward expectantly as the Courier rolled out an ancient map. "Now I found this on one of my least prosperous humps from here to Vault City." She spread it out in front of her, anchoring it carefully with items from the table.

The map was a black and white map of the southwest Pre-war United States which showed only divisions into counties with red stars dotted about the page. Each was labeled with a cryptically vague name scrawled in hand to the right of the star.

The Courier pointed to a hand-drawn circle labeled Shady Sands. "We're here, and over here," she slid her finger west to a star marked "Butterfly". "This is Mariposa, but where we're going is all the way over here." The Courier slid her finger from "Butterfly" northeast, past "Mountain" to a star named "Hope"

The trio looked at her doubtfully. She held her hands up. "Listen, I know the name's a little corny, but trust me. This place is secluded, remote, and secure. We'll have no trouble avoiding the grabby hands of the NCR here."

The older man pulled the map towards him and studied it. After a moment, a worried look crept onto his face. The man looked up from the map, and to those seated around him, he looked like he was lost in a memory. Suddenly he started smiling, then laughing uproariously.

"This area," he trailed off.

"I know." the Courier responded.

The other two looked at them quizzically. The younger man grabbed the map and held it up as he looked at it. "What about it?"

"Look where it is, look what it's in!"

The young man slapped the map down on the table with a sarcastic scoff as he turned to the Courier. "You can't be serious."

The blonde simply nodded.

"The Divide?" The older woman had the map. "Miss, you may as well plan a settlement in the Glow. We couldn't even pass through it let alone settle there." She stood. "I'm sorry, but we'll have to find someone else."

The blonde motioned her to sit back down. "I know it's dangerous, but it can be done."

"What on Earth would make you think you could live there? You might as well try to live on the sun." the older woman laughed back.

"Because I've done it before, the winds aren't as bad as you might think."

"Oh, so they won't flay the flesh off your bones and drop it down a hundred miles away?" inquired the young man.

"Well, not exactly. The winds are fine inside and if you're covered. Look, I never said it was the easiest place in the world," she turned to older two. "But those same winds that junior over here is bawling about will keep rest of the world out."

The trio exchanged glances before the younger man stood. "Listen lady, no offense, but I just don't buy it. I hope you have some better proof than a star on a map and some fancy stories."

The Courier reached into her pack and fished a green coat out and threw it on the table. The older man picked it up and examined it. On the lapel he found matching pins reading "US" and along each shoulder there were four golden stars. The Courier laid a pair of pre-war dog tags on the table and slid them to the young man. Snatching them up he read "Restlaf, Martin F., 135-48-1488, O+, Catholic" As if parroting, the older man read from a label on the inside of the coat "General Martin Restalf CO Hopeville Tactical Missile Installation."

"Where do you think I found the map?" the blonde said softly.

The young man sat back down and the older woman spoke up, "Alright miss, you have our interest. Will you come talk to the rest of our group?"

"Of course." The blonde stood, prompting the rest of the table to do so as well. She rolled the map back up, stuffed it and the coat and dog tags back into her pack before hoisting it up on her shoulders. She followed the trio outside before pausing at the doorway. She gave one last look to what had once been her favorite bar before heading out into the dying light of the evening, the door slamming shut behind her.


	10. Chapter 10

-Chapter 10-

A redheaded woman stirred on a bed in a small room, awoken by a strange noise. Slowly she opened her eyes. She saw the dingy roof above her bed. She attempted to sit up but was met with a sharp pain in her side. Her eyes shot down to her side and the stains in her shirt spoke of violence.

She sat up in bed with difficulty and looked around. It was a nice enough small bedroom area. One Sunset Sarsaparilla poster on the wall, a nightstand, a few privacy curtains, and a menacing hook hanging from the ceiling. Then she remembered, she was in a Legion base, in a Legion commander's bed. How on earth had she ended up here?

Suddenly the events of the previous day came flooding back to her: the approach to the Legion camp; the endless hours of observation waiting to figure out the patterns of the patrols; waiting until nightfall; the sneak into position; waiting for her companion's signal; and the killing, the slow, careful, and methodical eradication of all the Legionnaires.

Well, almost all.

She could still hear the crack of the door as it swung open against the side of the building. She could still feel the bruises around her neck where the centurion's hands had very nearly wrung the life out of her. She could recall her breath leaving her for what she was sure would be the last time. She remembered the sound of the rifle's impact on the man's helmet, and how he had dropped her to the floor; how her vision came flooding back.

She had scrambled away from him as best she could. She made it to the side of the building before she even realized she was bleeding. Her stomach was turned to lead by the sight of the machete protruding rudely from her side. She definitely could still feel it. Her hand fell to the wound. She could feel bandaging underneath her shirt.

The conspicuous lack of sheets on the bed, and the curious amounts of scrap cloth around suddenly made sense. She remembered stabbing herself with medicine as her vision clouded again. The last things she could recall before the morning were the words "my only friend". She'd have to ask her friend about that.

She looked around for her friend. She couldn't see much of the main room, obscured as it was by two dividing walls set up around the bed. On the bed next to her she found a full stimpack and a dose of Med-X. She grimaced; she hated needles. The pain in her side spoke to her of their necessity and she injected them without much further delay.

After the medicine had a few minutes to work, she tried to stand. Finding it less difficult than she had prepared herself for, she stood up and, leaning against one dividing wall, she made her way out of the makeshift bedroom in search of the source of the odd noise.

Emerging out of the bedroom the noise suddenly made sense. Her blonde companion lay on the desk which had been pushed up against the door. She lay on her back with her arms outstretched and was snoring loudly. A trail of detritus led from the desk to the bed: bloody scalpels, empty syringes, torn scraps of cloth used to collect blood, a few magazines, and one book. The lot had clearly been discarded by the Courier on her path to the desk.

Cass smiled as she returned to the bed. She was more tired than she first realized and the medicine wasn't helping in that regard any. As she lay back down, she silently thanked her friend for being there and wondered from where the Courier's berzerker aggression had come.

* * *

It was late in the day before the Courier rolled off the desk, landing with a comical thud. Quickly she looked around. Thankfully no one saw her rough dismount.

"You alright?" she heard her friend ask as she limped into vision. Seeing her friend up and about the Courier was ecstatic. Despite all her doubts, she hadn't butchered her only friend.

"Desk try to feel you up?" Cass sarcastically inquired.

She laughed nervously, "Yeah, the desk started getting a little fresh with me." The Courier picked herself up off the ground. "How do you feel?"

"Not bad, all things considered." Cass smiled weakly. She was holding her side.

"I did the best I could," the Courier offered, gesturing to the mess on the floor of discarded medical paraphernalia. "We should get you to a real doctor though." Cass simply nodded. "Our packs are still hopefully still up on the ridge, but I think we should stick to the road as long as is safe." Cass nodded again. "Sounds good."

The Courier scooped up the mess on the floor and replaced it in the doctor's bag. Hoisting it up over her shoulder she smiled at Cass. "You feeling good enough to travel? Sooner we get started sooner we can get you the help you need." The Courier asked as her stomach growled. "and the sooner we can get some food." Cass's nodded in agreement. Her own stomach was starting to growl with hunger as well, though the thought of food was rather unappetising at the moment. She motioned to the desk by the door, "Why don't you move your bed and we can get started?" The Courier looked behind her at where Cass had pointed before realizing what she was talking about. "Oh right, duh."

Cass started out into the room as the Courier slid the desk away from the door. She turned around just in time to see Cass start to falter and she rushed over to help prop her up. The Courier slid Cass's right arm around the back of her neck. She smiled at her friend. "Just lean on me and we'll take this slow alright?" Cass nodded as the pair limped their way out into the bright Mojave sun.


End file.
